


Dog Bite

by FixedWithBrokenParts



Category: Castlevania, Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: AU, Because I am god and I miss her, Lisa didn't die, M/M, Sypha is my queen, Top Alucard, bottom trevor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19709038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixedWithBrokenParts/pseuds/FixedWithBrokenParts
Summary: You do what you do, and you part your own ways. It's the way things go. Trevor had never been hung up on drunken romance before. Although, that drunken decision had never been Alucard before. You don't forget something like that, especially when he conveniently walks back into your life during a hunt.





	Dog Bite

**Author's Note:**

> oKay- How this AU works  
> -Lisa is alive, Drac didn't go bonkers, everyone's happy  
> -No genocide and many liberties were taken out of pure self indulgence  
> -Don't know what other divergences I'm gonna add but I'll list them in the tags as we go along
> 
> hope you guys enjoy!

“Jesus, fuck-” a hand wrapped over his mouth before any more could spill out. 

It was empty, the forest they were in. Sound of distant winds and the dull fiddle musicians in the tavern they had snuck away from. And it was dark. Nearly pitch. All his senses were sound, were touch, the smell of beer he'd spilt hours before. Spilt like all the nasty phrases his mouth was making, now cut short by a hand. 

“Hush,” it was sharp and commanding, and the yes-man personality that Trevor tucked away was happy to shut up. With another particularly rough hit of hips, the Belmont arched like a cat, desperate to catch a glimpse of the man behind him. 

The one with the cool skin, the diamond jaw, the impressive skill set that had Trevor's legs clenching. But it was dark, so all he saw was the halo of blond hair barely visible in the moonless night. He fucked like an animal, feral and possessive. It had Trevor's mind doing somersaults as he gripped a poor tree for purchase. Besides the wind, it was the explicit sound of skin hitting skin that could be heard. 

The hand over his mouth was bitten red by now, his attempts to keep his moans to himself. The sound that he finally let fall when his companion pulled out and away was one that only Trevor would forget. 

In the dark it was that hungry voice that told him to flip around. Yes-man Trevor backed up to the tree that he was sure didn't deserve this defiling, but he wasn't one to stop hedonism in its tracks either. Desperate hands grabbed one another, Trevor's trying to claw fabric away and his partner working his way back into the Belmont. He was an inpatient man, hiking Trevor up with surprising ease and finishing what they'd started. 

As desperate as this was Trevor hugged the man closer out of pure instinct. His hands balled into that platinum hair, his lips left pants on the shell of a cold ear. Chest to chest and Trevor's arousal getting needier by the second, the hunter was all consumed by the heavy breathing and rough thrusts. No matter the temperature, it was hot air that clung to them. 

He didn't know why the man didn't want him making sound, the tavern was a healthy distance. It was them and the tree out here. But he did his best and kept his mouth occupied by biting not too nicely on the meaty flesh before the curve of this man's neck. And it must have meant something because those hips got faster and there was a rumbling moan tumbling out of his throat. 

This was by far the worst part of any night. 

When they pull away, leaving Trevor in a mess and unfinished. Giving a diplomatic kiss and agreeing that maybe they should forget it happened. Too many times had Trevor seen a good fuck walk away and have to clean up alone. 

The blond man did kiss him, kissed him rough. Trevor's weak legs had gone numb from being held up and he relied on the other for support. He didn't taste like beer but like water, nice and cool. It was by far the best farewell kiss he had ever gotten. 

As the man pulled their lips apart the standard 'That Felt Great, I Don't Want to See You Again’ was about to start but this one did something unexpected. It was dark, but hands traveled down his sides as the blond sunk to his knees. Even his imagination of the image was enough to get sounds from him. Let alone the cool mouth that was spreading spit down his cock.

If this man wasn't so pale and platinum then Trevor would be sure the darkness was sucking him off. It was good. More than good. Where ever this stranger learned his stuff, the Belmont wouldn't mind taking a visit. Trevor felt the barest hints of teeth but it barely formed a thought in his head. As rough as he had been before this was just calculated enough to have Trevor moaning like a princess in minutes. The blonde swallowed, which Trevor only thought about later as he was too busy getting knocked into a different plane of existence while it was happening.

Trevor pulled him up, gripping him tight as his legs had taken a beating and he needed more support than this poor tree. “Holy fuck,” he mumbled distantly, “you really got it all figured out huh.” 

“Are you alright?” He asked the way a doctor would, trying to get Trevor to stand on his own and failing. He nodded but he didn't know if the blond man saw. 

“I'm good. No. I'm better. I think you made me believe in God again.” 

The man chuckled, suturing up Trevor's pant laces, “How utterly ironic.” Trevor was too tired to respond. A little high off the contact, and how nice the man was to stay. 

His brain was lax, but he knew that at this point he just needed the man to keep touching him. All his clothes were done up by the time he registered the words the man had said. 

“Leaving? Like town?” Trevor huffed, squinting to make out that face that had gotten him worked up in the first place. 

“Yes, tonight, you said you were just passing through as well.” 

“Well yeah,” Trevor muttered, disappointed. “Thought you'd be heading out later though.” 

Cold lips, and short breath, “Well. Does that bother you…” 

He shrugged, or he tried. Trevor was tired and beginning to work up a hell of appetite, cheap jerky sounded so good right now. “I wouldn't have minded a round two.”

The man laughed, and Trevor guessed that he was combing those gold tendrils back, “I--I suppose I wouldn't have minded it either.”

He could tell the man had light eyes, and in the yellow glow of the tavern Trevor couldn't distinguish them from candlelight. He thought it a trick of the wine at first but even out here they held a strange flame like glimmer.

“Trevor.” He grunted. “Its my name. If you wondered.”

The blond took his time responding, and the Belmont didn't need light to see the smirk on his lips. “Do you want mine then? Got future plans, Trevor?” 

Trevor huffed, crossing his arms and ignoring the purr that was given. “I gave you my ass, the least I could ask for is a name.”

This was playful, it was easy. Their banter feeling horribly natural. This blond stranger could undo Trevor in a heartbeat if he really wanted to. No way in hell was he going to let him though. 

“Oh, feeling a bit more awake?” He encroached on Trevor once again, pushing him flush to the tree. “Want me to take it again?” 

This man purred. 

Sly and evil. It made every hair on his body rise and if he had any energy left in his body it would have made his cock rise as well. Reflexively he reached out for his whip that would have rested at his side but it was gone. Discarded pitifully to the side with the rest of his trappings. It was just him and his shirt between the man. 

Defenseless. And for once he didn't mind. Not one bit as cold lips brushed the ring of his ear and hands danced aimlessly along his frame.

“Call me Alucard,” he crooned. “But keep it to yourself.”

The ghost of his presence made Trevor's mind whirl as Alucard faded off towards the town. He was too weak, to enamored even, to chase him down like his body wanted to. 

  
And that was a year ago. 

  
"You think you'd be over him by now,” muttered the quick witted Speaker from her seat on the edge of their wagon. 

Trevor scrunched his nose, yes maybe he should be over him but he should be over a lot of things by now. Like his missing left vambrace. Where the hell had that gone? A piece of armor, which was arguably less important than a mysterious lover who had occupied Trevor's mind for nearly one trip around the sun, he still hasn't gotten over. Trevor held grudges. 

“Well,” he said as he sat on a thick tree branch, “I'm not. What are you going to do about it, hmm? Find me a wife to satisfy my needs?” He tied the trap's ropes with unnecessary force. This demon better be worth it. 

Sypha hummed, staring up at her friend, “I would never subject a poor woman to you. She'd run screaming before your wedding night.” 

Trevor grunted, “I bet you really believe that don't you. I'll come down there Sypha. Don't make me break out my Belmont charms.” 

“Charms? Really?” She smiled at him, feet swinging off the wagon. It was summer, and golden light was scattered along the forest floor. Her hair caught in the light gleamed red as her cheeks. “I've had those Belmont charms. You're too loud for me.” 

Trevor scoffed, finishing up the demon snare and preparing to work his way down the tree. “Some people like enthusiasm, Sypha.”

“Some people also like intimacy, Trevor. Who was the last person you spent more than one night with?” 

His boots kicked up dust as he landed back to earth, wiping his hands to stare at his handy work. “I don't know. You I suppose. Do you think that it needs to be more to the left?” 

“No Trevor I think it's fine, and that was years ago Belmont. Have you ever had consistency in your life before me.” 

It wasn't a good question, so Trevor didn't answer, just rolling up the rest of their salty rope to stuff back in their wagon. “I think it would be better a little more to the left,” he muttered.

“Huh?" Sypha intervened. 

“I said what is the weather looking like tomorrow!” The Belmont kicked over some of their campfire coals from the night previous. Sypha huffed, that look in her eye. Sypha knew Trevor inside and out. Or she liked to think she did. He let her do it anyway. It’s a lot easier to pretend you’re an open book than explain the real story. 

The sun came and went, the sound of the night’s chorus beginning to rise as he and his friend waited. In the dark, side by side, eyes locked on the simple snare that was baited with an infant doll dipped in goat’s blood. It was gruesome but that’s what life was, dealing with the demonic. They lay in their stomachs, trained ears pointed in all directions as they fumbled around in silence. Playing card games that Trevor always lost at. 

“I know you cheat,” he hissed under his breath, throwing down a card in the sand. 

He didn't need light to see the smug look on the Speaker’s face as she spoke, “You just can’t pay attention.” 

“I can’t pay attention?” he sneered, “Excuse me but who almost got lost in a market because there was and I quote ‘Too many puppies.’” 

Sypha seemed greatly offended by this and snatched all the cards away. Wind moved through the trees as they waited. And waited and waited. What else was there to do until their demon got caught in the snare. 

Stare. 

He stared above him, up at the countless stars. Their ancient formations. They mattered in magic but he had no care for the mystical, all Sypha's domain. He just thought them beautiful. And on cloudless nights like these the soft forms of star dust was visible, and the planets blinked like candlelight caught in the same breeze that swayed the trees. Blinking was an after thought, he'd look up at the stars till his eyes were desert dry. It was the endlessness maybe, that preoccupied him. Or it was the simplicity. His eyes going in and out of focus to create new views of the same sky. 

He loved to stare at them, every single damn dot he loved. Never learned the names though. If someone told him he forgot them. There was a comfort in just the anonymity up there. The drifting quiet of the clouds, sweeping over them to dull the starlight as they passed.

But then something deeper blocked out those stars.

Sypha and him didn't even need to look at each other to snap into action. He was crouched with his whip in hand within a moment, and she had frost on her fingertips. Each prickle of the night was louder now as they listening for demon rustling. 

There, it was behind the baited tree, he motioned his head and Sypha nodded, they slowly crept through the underbrush; not a sound between them. Bleeding red eyes were visible in the shadows and the creature examined the bait. From its behavior, Trevor assumed it was in the gargoyle family. Leathery wings and bull faces made for a disgusting sight, he appreciated that it stayed in the dark. 

The rope was salted and had been thoroughly soaked in holy water, it would burn but not kill the monster and barely hold it in time for them to react. His body was on high alert, what if there were more ready to make he and Sypha a midnight snack? Time ticked as the beast got closer to the dripping bait, he could almost make out the entire body now. 

Hunter to hunter, Trevor could see the monster about to strike, he understood the wheels moving in its head. But before the gargoyle could make its pounce into the trap, a figure barreled against it, knocking it into a neighboring tree. 

Trevor didn't have time to be stunned as he rushed across the clearing to the vicious sound of a hound ripping through flesh. Sypha had flames in her hands beside him.   
  
It was a silver wolf, bigger than he had ever seen, and crimson painted its body. It tore into the demon's squirming carcass like a hellbeast itself. 

"What should we do?" Asked Sypha, the creatures were far enough away that the wolf was all too consumed with its kill to care about them. 

There was a lasting cry of the demon before its throat was separated by teeth, and its writhing ceased. This was no ordinary wolf. "I don't know," he muttered, stunned and his weapons held lamely in his hands. 

It had killed the demon, which was a good thing. But with that gruesome potential should it be allowed to live? It was on that thought that the wolf finally took notice of them standing off and ready to fight. Haunting yellow eyes snapped towards them, its muzzle overflowing from blood and sinew. 

Its shoulders were muscled like a monster itself, paws so large and with claws even more intimidating. It stalked towards them slowly, and neither the Belmont nor the Speaker knew if this was friend or foe. But she acted first, creating an ice wall between them only for the hound to leap off of it before it rose too high and knock Trevor down by the shoulders.

Precious breath left him as he was tackled to the ground, a devastating hit to his back as he fell unprepared and with a damn wolf on his chest. The beast loomed over him with fresh blood dripping on his tunic. Trevor scrambled to reach the short sword that was knocked out if his hand by the hit. Deathly yellow eyes bore into him as the wolf snarled, he had no chance of overpowering the creature while it had a heavy paw pressing deep into his chest. 

A burst of flame knocked the wolf from him and Trevor rolled away to his sword, snapping his whip to keep the creature at distance. 

"Are you alright?" She called with flames nearly engulfing her entire arm, he nodded and never let his eyes leave the bloodstained beast on the other side of the clearing. "What is it?"

Yellow eyes cast a light on the creatures scarlet fur. "Its not natural, that's for damn sure," he croaked. Lungs still winded from the blow. There was a nasty burn on its shoulder from Sypha's hit but the monster didn't seem to care, instead its eyes were locked with Trevor. He had a horrible feeling this creature knew him some how. 

Any inch towards them and it was another crack of his whip at the wolf's feet. "Should we kill it?" He asked absently. 

"I don't know," Sypha whispered. The creature let out a low growl before rushing off and away. 

"Follow it!" Trevor cried as he sprinted after the wolf. He was chasing the white figure through trees and over roots, feet slamming on the ground beneath him. But the wolf was too fast and one smart turn to the right was all it took to leave Trevor at a loss. The bloody pawprints simply stopped, leaving no trace. As if the monster had just gotten up and flown away. 

"Fuck!" He threw his sword down in anger, a crow or two flying away. Sypha had come up behind him, but paid only attention to the prints in the earth. The paws were huge and areas of dug earth visible from were claws had pressed in. She ran a finger gently over the print.

"Is there anything in your bestiary about this?" She asked with a mild tone. 

He ran his hands over his face and through his hair just to contain himself, "Werewolves are moon bound, we've got two weeks till the full moon. And they're upright. That was…" he paused rubbing his hand over his chest, the bloody print on his tunic, "...a very angry dog." 

Neither of them slept, too dangerous with something like that lurking and with the ability to elude them so simply. So they drove their horse and wagon back to the town and parked near a cluster of houses for protection. The sun made its way up not too long after, and they were forced to go search for food, but Trevor really just wanted to dig into the people.

"White wolf, big bastard too. About yay-high?" 

"Sorry sir," the merchant sighed from his side of his booth at the morning market. "We only got them Satan bats round here." Gargoyles, he made a note to himself with his arms crossed. The sun was beginning to rise quicker and stay hot longer now. The summer season creeping in and melting the last remnants of the cold. He squinted against the white heat, wondering how a year had gone by so fast. 

So he continued his interrogations as the market got busier, the day welcoming people out of their huts and homes. He stopped by a family that was selling homemade rugs, the little children pestering about within view of the parents. 

“No dogs or wolves I’ve seen,” said the father, dusting off his merchandise. Trevor hummed, and his eyes narrowed to the wife who was busy arranging some threads behind him. Her jaw was locked, and eyes darted back and forth between Trevor and her hands. 

“Well thats unfortunate,” he spoke intentionally, making sure the wife could hear him. “I’ve got bounty on a big white wolf near this town. Nice bag of silver for anyone who can tell me if they’ve seen it.” The wife’s eyes bugged out, but her husband shrugged unaware.   
  
“Sorry there sir, I’m sure the priest may know. He’s got all the town’s gossip in his confessional.” 

One last glare at the woman before he left, and counted the seconds it took for her to sneak away and follow him, Trevor made sure he was easy to spot and he was at 89 before he heard a desperate voice behind him.

“You ain’t gonna kill ‘em, are you?” 

She had pleading eyes now, Trevor scanned the area before pulling her aside to the shade of a stone building. “Depends, but I’d like more information before I do.” 

His voice was low and hers was lower, “Please sir, ‘e never did any harm.” Trevor encouraged her to keep talking, wondering how a beast that he’d seen the night before could do anything but harm. “You see he saved me.” 

“ _Saved_ you?” Trevor repeated, confused. 

She nodded, often looking over her shoulder, “You know bout the bats in the forest, I bet.” He nodded himself. “Well They got the best fur, I’m telling you. Sell’s for a good price in the more dangerous markets. But the ‘usband likes to keep that part of our income a little secret so I didn’t wanna say it there.” 

“Understandable,” he huffed, selling demon parts to the night dwellers for a pretty penny wasn't anything new, but it didn’t mean the church wouldnt burn you as a witch in the blink of an eye. 

“We usually wait every month or so do the collecting off the corpses. They throw away their dead you know? Outside the mouth of the deep cavern westways. I don’t always go alone, being it so dangerous but Michael was just so sick he couldn't barely walk.”

Trevor tightened the cross of his arms, if gargoyles were collecting together then it meant there was a nest in that cave. One more thing he had to deal with. “So you went alone.” 

The woman nodded, russet hair caught in a messy tie and beginning to fall to her shoulders, “Yes sir. But I went right at sundown just to be safe and all. Guess it didn’t help too much, one of them bats was still alive. It attacked me, gave a nasty scratch to my leg. And then,” her voice wavered, eyes glistening wet. 

“Do you believe in guardian angels?” she asked quietly.

No, he thought to himself. “Sure.” 

She blinked a tear down her cheek, “That wolf you’re lookin’ for, was mine that night. Killed the creature and I lost so much blood I passed out. Thought I died, but I woke up a bit and ‘e had put me on ‘is back. Gave me bandages on my leg, I dunno ‘ow a hound coulda done that but he did. Carried me all the way home.” There were more tears trickling down her red cheeks and she wiped them with a dirty sleeve. 

“Please sir, don’t’chu kill that sweet angel out there. I call to ‘im every night just so I can say thank you.”

Trevor didn’t dare ruin this woman’s experience by telling her the truth. That was no angel and it didn’t care if she called to it. That was a bloodthirsty killer who...well didn’t kill him but he was a tough piece of prey. Or he liked to think that. 

“Thank you for telling me this,” he dug around in his shallow pockets to pull out three pieces of silver and one dirty gold coin. “Take it, and do yourselves a favor and stop selling to the dark arts if you know what’s best for you. There won’t always an angel to save you.”

A headache had begun to form later on in the day, and he was unable to rub out the pain in his temples. So he slept in their wagon with a thick fur cloak to shield him. Though rest came it wasn’t very peaceful, his mind overworked with the demon nest and the wolf beast and also he was just exhausted. When he woke he barely felt like he’d slept at all. 

Sypha did come by shortly after to see him sulking in their wagon. She spoke as she climbed up with him, offering a piece of dried meat. “I haven’t been able to find any news on a wolf but based on what I’ve been hearing there’s a demon nest around here.”

He grumbled, “Westways,” and chewed his flavorless meat. 

She nodded, “And based on weather now, we should be expecting heavy rain tonight, maybe tomorrow. So I guess we have to buy a room and a place for the horse.” Trevor just rubbed his eyes, blankly agreeing. 

“Wolf’s been around here for at least two months,” he grumbled, upset by the weather. Or his headache. Or everything. He was in a bad mood. “My guess is it has something to do with the demon nest.”

“Why’s that?” the Speaker asked shuffling through their coins to calculate the room cost. 

He narrowed his eyes off into a blurry horizon, “He helped someone.” She seemed as confused as him but he nodded, “Saved a woman. I can’t imagine why.”

Trevor had jumped down to feed their horse, not wanting to pay extra for food in a stable tonight, as Sypha spoke, “Well it saved you didn’t it? Or at least it didn’t kill you.” She shrugged, pouring their money back into a satchel, “Maybe it’s on our side.” 

He jerked back when the horse almost bit his fingers off, mistaking them for a carrot, “And what side would that be?” Trevor glared at their horse, keeping an eye on his fingers.   
  
“The dead-demon one. The safety of Wallachia one. Your Belmont creed I suppose. Against the night and all it’s monsters.” 

Belmont creed, or his own curse. Whatever name you gave to the duty of his blood to fight the demons and the vampires. To entertain all superstition and live outside of any normal. He remembered when he wore that name like a badge. It was his everything. To be the next wielder of the famed vampire killer. To kill any and all forces of darkness in his path. He would have done anything to live up to his family’s duty. Trevor’s eyes fell to the whip resting on his belt, trying to remember why he had ever wanted this in the first place. It only got all the others killed. He wasn’t special. Just lucky.

He kicked a stone or two, “Lets just find an inn.” 

  
“One bed?” the innkeeper huffed, flipping pages in thin book. “Yeah I think we got one for yer’, course I can’t condone any, uh, extramarital activities.”

“Extramarital?” Hissed Sypha, Trevor having to raise his arm against her to prevent her from leaping over the desk and plucking the man’s eyes out. 

“Yeah, s’what I said, I aint’ seenin’ a ring on no finger.” The innkeeper was a burly man, and had a burly personality that matched, unfortunately for Trevor, Sypha didn’t seem to care that this was the only inn open in the town. 

“No need to worry sir,” Trevor said with all the politeness he could muster, which retrospectively was quite minimal. “Sold our rings off ages ago, when we hit some hard times. But we will be needing that room for the storm.” 

Sypha was bristling, he could practically hear the embers crackling in her hands as the keeper handed them their key. “He was repulsive,” she sneered as they walked down the hall. 

He motioned for her to keep her voice down, looking over his shoulder at the man, “I’d rather not sleep in the rain again. Can’t deal with pneumonia twice this year.” 

She couldn't help but throw her hands up, “Why do people always assume I’m your mistress!” Sypha unlocked the door with a little bit of skillful wind, leaving the key’s deft in Trevor’s hands. “It’s because I’m a Speaker, people can never seem to understand that we have marriages just as civilians do. We just don’t brag about it.”

“It’s going to be along night if you hold this grudge,” he offered as he set his bag of weapons down. She had all her supplies as well. Their wagon was parked and locked in by a little spell of Sypha’s to prevent it from being stolen, but it didn’t mean they needed all their stuff getting soaked. The sun hadn’t set quite yet but she took the time to light the fireplace and candles. 

It was a fine enough room with a table and a chest at the foot of the bed. He threw himself on the mattress testing out the feel only to be disappointed by it’s regularity. The blankets were well made, he supposed. 

“You know, you asked me to marry you once.” Sypha pointed out as she folded her legs beneath her on the table, closing her eyes to meditate her anger away.

He sighed, taking a useless wooden carving from the nightstand and tossing it up into the air, “You haven’t said no.” 

He loved her. Every muscle in his body cared for her the way he had never cared for anyone before. She was his light and his rock. His companion in the darkest hours. Trevor loved her down to the bone. But it wasn’t a passionate love. He didn’t want to let their bodies consume each other. She was his best friend, and he was hers. It only hurt when he remembered how well they were in theory, only to realize their bond wasn't as romantic as they had hoped. 

She smiled, illuminated by the small wisps of magic gliding around her, “We desire different lives.” 

Up and down the little knick knack went, his eyes never leaving it, “I always want you in my life Sypha.” 

He could hear the sincerity in her voice, “And I always want you in mine, Belmont.” It made his heart warm, this was as much as they needed from each other. But there was a whole somewhere in him that wanted more, it just wasn’t Sypha. 

“If I go down to the tavern will you be angry?” He asked setting the carving down as he sat up. The sun was finally slipping for good, the last rays of light beginning to fade into the treeline. 

She hummed, “Will you bring your bad decisions back here if you do?” 

Trevor shook his head, picking some coins from their satchel and keeping them in his own belt pouch, “I promise not to bring any foreign parties to your bed, unless it’s a stray dog for you to care for.”

She opened her eyes only to glare at him, “Don’t get my hopes up.” 

He smiled with one foot out the door, “You’re just so easy.” Trevor was fairly sure he heard the woman call out that he was rude as he closed the door behind him. There was a tavern on the first floor of the inn that they had come through earlier. It was empty then but he could hear the sound of a small group of instruments and lively company. For as small as this town was, they had personality. 

“Pint of your cheapest please,” Trevor grinned at the innkeeper, now bar handler. He just narrowed his eyes at Trevor in the accusing way that the Belmont was used to by now. 

“Wife not joining yer’?” The man said pushing Trevor’s drink his way. 

He shrugged, “She’s got a headache,” and found a dark enough table for him to sulk in. The rain had started up now. He could hear it pattering against the sides of the building, but he let the little band drown out the sound as he focused on nothing. The beer was shit but it was just one more thing he was numb to. Trevor barely noticed when it was all gone. 

So he had another, and maybe one more after that, He was surprised the band had been going for this long, with a crowd that keep engaged just as much. It was clearly a group of buddies who always seemed to spend their time like this. Their faces red from the ale and all their laughter. It filled the tavern with a warmness that Trevor appreciated. It made him feel a little better, 

Although he wasn’t sure why he was feeling so awful in the first place. Maybe it was time catching up to him. He was twenty-seven this year, objectively old in his book, and what had he done? Killed a lot of things. It was an accomplishment to some but it just left him feeling hollow. Part of him was convinced he should have died by now. Died with the rest of his family in the fire. But he was the one to sneak away, a wiley twelve year old and now he was here. 

It was loneliness, he thought. The dark bug that was scuttling around beneath his ribs. Making him wish for more than his life right now. He had really wanted to marry Sypha some time back, but now that had passed along, and he was alone. Trevor took a long drink of his pint, shivering. Why was he always alone?

Or maybe he had shivered because someone opened the door to let the damn storm in. Even the music couldn’t drown out the thunder’s chorus. He narrowed his eyes at the cause of this absolute crime against his relaxation. Some man had busted in, a cloak draped around him from head to toe. His posture seemed desperate, though Trevor couldn’t tell much with the man’s back to him. 

“But late, innit?” The innkeeper huffed at the man, and was it late? Damn the time was passing quick with his drinks.

He couldn't quite hear the man’s response but by the keeper’s face it was something sharp, and it made him shake his head. “You’re lucky sir, last room I got.” 

The tall man ran his fingers through his hair, knocking the hood of his cloak back, “Thank you for the accommodation,” he said pointedly as his hand combed through silver blond curls, damp from the rain. A chord strummed in Trevor, one of recognition. There was something so familiar about that voice. It only took one glance behind him for Trevor to nearly fall from his bench. 

It _was_ him.  
  
Trevor wasn’t even sure that he told his legs to move, they just did. Strolled right up to the blond at the bar with a dumb expression on his face. 

“You.”


End file.
